Watch me play expert....

Swine Flu! AAAAH! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

Okay, probably not something to joke about. But the media has quickly whipped itself into a frenzy over the new influenza strain wreaking havoc in Mexico City. Why? Because it's a pretty rough one, and it's apparently spreading human-to-human. The story only broke within the last 48 hours or so, so there's still plenty of time to bring back all the avian flu / SARS hysteria, which looks like the media's game plan. Only this time it's closer to home and certainly more virulent. And now every pair of kids with a cough and a headache are going to be suspected of having the now dreaded H1N1 SIV strain.

Now watch me play pseudo-scientist / pseudo-journalist and make a prediction: This flu strain will hit tropcial areas much harder than temperate ones.

Recent research has shown that typical influenza strains do not spread well in warmer temperatures, and are not even viable at very warm temperatures. Quoting from this article:

"...results showed that the virus spread more easily at 5°C (41°F) than at 20°C (68°F), with no transmission at 30°C (86°F)."

That's why we sometimes get summer colds but not summer flu's. That's also why influenza is pretty rare in warmer climates.

This strain is apparently different in that regard, as its epicenter is Mexico City - and in April no less, which is its warmest month, with an average daytime high of 79°F (26°F).

A warm weather flu. What a horrible thought.

But because of that, people living in these areas have much less exposure to influenza strains in general, and so presumably, much less immunity to them. This could explain why the handful of cases on US soil have been fairly mild, while Mexico City is practically in lockdown, with schools and businesses closing, and people wearing surgical masks all over the city. There have been an estimated 1000 cases in Mexico City and perhaps dozens of fatalities attributed to it already.

And as you read this, keep in mind my awesome credentials. I'm basing this on, well, uneducated guesswork. What I know about influenza, epidemiology, and human immune response comes mostly from playing Oregon Trail.

I'll make another prediction: This will not be a Spanish flu-like pandemic. But on that one, I'm just playing the odds. There are a thousand flu strains floating around out there, and they pretty much all suck. But real pandemics are extremely rare. And the media certainly has incentives to stir the pot whenever they get a chance.

Here's hoping this flu strain has something in common with avian flu and SARS: A high hype-to-substance ratio.

--

Late breaking story

We're coming to you live this morning from the local hospital... which incidentally is not as exciting as it sounds. Poor Amelia didn't get along with the latest virus that came calling. She stopped eating in favor of an all-day nap on Thursday. She'd only get up to move from the recliner to the couch or from the couch to the big pillow on the floor. She'd spend her few waking minutes staring vacantly into the middle distance. Friday afternoon she went to the doctor and got some antibiotics for a probable double ear infection. Saturday she decided to give up on drinking too, and when her breath started to smell like nail polish remover, we called her doc, who had us do some checks for dehydration and sent us packing for the ER, sometime around 4:30 yesterday afternoon.

They did a chest x-ray to check for pneumonia (negagtive) and ran some blood work. After what seemed like a very long time, they finally got an IV started. Then she thrashed at the last moment and knocked it out, so we had to do it again on the other side. She didn't even like the blood pressure cuff, the stethoscope, or the thermometer under her arm, so you can imagine how thrilled she was with three different needle sticks. It took three of us to make it happen.

After getting her lab work back and consulting with her pediatrician, they decided to admit her, so I stayed the night with her. She napped for a while once we got back to the room, and then woke up raring to go. As in, "go somewhere other than this godforsaken bed." It's tough when you can't explain to her the necessity of staying put.

Then one of the nurses came by and suggested we unplug the IV stand and take a walk.

Duh...

So we embarked on the inaugural Amelia 500, walking round and round the third floor - presumably looking for the exit. It was the most activity I've seen from her in about 72 hours. After half a dozen laps, it was time for a pit stop back at the room. She was much less upset having checked out her surroundings. They brought us a TV on a stand with a VCR and some decades old children's movies. She stared vaguely in the direction of The Land Before Time II for a while before finally going to sleep sometime after midnight.

And now we sit (well, I sit and Amelia sprawls), uncertain about whether we're going to get to go home later this morning or not. Daylight savings kicked in last night, which I'm choosing to look at as one hour less in the hospital rather than a lost hour of sleep. You lose hours of sleep in the hospital anyway, what with the narrow bed not really built for more than one person, the air mattress that reinflates and readjusts itself every time you move (or breathe too deeply), the occasional beeping machines or medical personnel appearing out of nowhere like ghosts in the night. (In an odd twist, our next-door-neighbor's mom works on this floor. It's always strange to see a familiar face in an unfamiliar context.)

At least they've got free wifi here, even if they do block half the sites on the internet. YouTube? Facebook? Really? Well, maybe it's to keep the staff from wasting too much time online or something. But trust me, even the tiniest opening can be used to waste time. You put me on a cruise ship with a balcony room I'll use it, but if you stick me in steerage with a tiny porthole, I'm still going to stare out it every chance I get...

I mean, let's be honest. I'm not telling this story because it's all that interesting. I'm just trying to pass the time by subjecting you to my boredom.

--

After further review...

...it wasn't food poisoning. I have to retract my slandering of that Most Regal of Milkmaids.

It was a bona fide stomach virus. Yuck. So e5 and Amelia got in on the fun too. E5 climbed into our bed in the middle of the night a few days ago, and then barfed in Mommy's hair. Like she doesn't wake up enough already for nursing.

Amelia didn't wake us up, but I was quite shocked when I opened her bedroom door the next morning to find bright scarlet splatters all over her bed, like a scene from some low-budget zombie flick. Mmmm, tropical punch Kool-Aid puke.

So that was a fun day. And e5 has been having major meltdowns every other day. He loves having a new baby brother, but he hates not getting as much attention, which manifests itself in the form of huge tantrums over everything from getting dressed to playing with Legos.

Oh, and now it seems Amelia has an ear infection.

Yippie!

But through the magic of, well... magic? luck? good living? ... neither mom nor baby got the bug. And the little guy's nearly constant nursing is paying off with better than a pound a week of baby flesh. I did some quick calculations, and at his current growth rate, he should be about 80 lbs by his first birthday. And I'm afraid Lori will have withered away to nothing.

As for that Tech Break thing I was participating in? I was a bit distracted for some reason, so I kind of forgot. I'm sure I had a couple of no-tech days in there, but they were neither planned nor fully appreciated.

I might try to continue that tradition though. I liked it when I was conscious of it.

--

Crud...

Care to guess what this is a graph of?

The stock market? The US Dollar? Property values? New petroleum discoveries? My retirement plan?

Nope, this represents the likelihood of our baby being born at home. It's pretty much zero now. C-Section futures are way up.

Actually I just stole this graph from the web somewhere, and I have no idea what it actually represents. But it illustrates morale here fairly well.

Despite days of bed rest for her and household double-overtime for me, Lori's blood pressure is frustratingly drifting upward after an initial drop. Her swelling is way down (well except that belly... ouch! hey!), and her battery of tests all came back clear, but just on blood pressure alone, the redline is getting close.

As recently as this afternoon, we thought our odds were improving. But alas...

At some point I may get into why we've put a lot of importance on this, but not right now. I'm tired, and priorities are elsewhere. And circumstances are making it somewhat irrelevant.

In attempt to keep everything in perspective, I'll say that Lori's still feeling fine physically, and the baby is at full term, quite active, and by all indications, healthy.

And we may be meeting him very soon, which does help put this whole thing in perspective.

--

Good, bad, good, bad, etc.

The good news is that the rains stopped long enough for much of the standing water to drain away. The bad news is that we're now replacing rain with snow. There was no snow at 9:00 this morning, but it's been coming down in drifts since then. The roads are a slippery, sloppy mess. They've closed down a stretch of I-70, and I saw four cars off on the six-mile not-that-busy road between here and town. We may get 15 inches by tomorrow night. Now there are probably some readers in the higher latitudes (or altitudes) who scoff at anything less than a good ol' Canadian metre of snow, but we're clearly not set up for it. I think they close schools here if there's a chance of snow in the 5-day forecast. The good news is that e5 can romp and play and burn off some energy. And the other good news is that weather forecasters almost always wildly exaggerate, at least around here...

The other good news is that Lori's hemoglobin has vaulted past the magical homebirth threshold, and her blood pressure is holding steady inside the acceptable range. Coming up on 39 weeks, and All Systems are Go at this point. The bad news is that we may be starting in on a new round of colds. The other bad news is that we may be snowed in for a bit. The good news is we have everything we need. Well, except maybe midwives.

Got all that?

--

Bad Shots?

Before you get your little ones vaccinated read this article: Government Concedes Vaccine-Autism Case in Federal Court.

(Or this one: US to Award Vaccine Damage Payment.)

From the first article:

After years of insisting there is no evidence to link vaccines with the onset of autism spectrum disorder (ASD), the US government has quietly conceded a vaccine-autism case in the Court of Federal Claims.

Some say the mercury(?!) in some shots is the culprit. Others say it's all hogwash. Here are the Government's words exactly:

"The vaccinations received on July 19, 2000, significantly aggravated an underlying mitochondrial disorder, which predisposed her to deficits in cellular energy metabolism, and manifested as a regressive encephalopathy with features of ASD."

Just so you know, there's mercury in flu shots as well...

--

Should we start the countdown yet?

Thirty-seven weeks. Our baby is into the "full term" category at this point. The midwives came over the other night to make sure they could find their way to our house, to see how we're set up, and to go over contingency plans and so on. We even get a "bonus" doula slash third midwife-in-training.

And yes, in case you don't know already, we're planning for a home birth. It's got to be better than our hospital experience. We're also using hypnosis. These two items probably put us on the remotes fringes of normalcy. I remember being normal. What a long strange trip it's been.

Knowledge of these two facts would probably also send most of my relatives into fits and convulsions, made worse by trying to remain polite and not accidentally scream, "WHAT ARE YOU FREAKING CRAZY?!" But if we wait and tell them after the fact, they'll raise admiring eyebrows and become very inquisitive and tell us how cool they think it is. So they'll just have to hold off on that part of the story. We're not highly secretive about it, but that kind of thing doesn't come up. And I don't feel the need to cause undue worry. So there you go.

Meanwhile, the excitement and anticipation is starting to build. We've probably got at least a couple more weeks, but we're about as ready as we'll ever be.

Well, except for picking a name...

What kind of world do you want?

to help a cool charity
to watch a cool video
to learn something

Colloidal Silver, Part Four: Results

See Also:
- Colloidal Silver, Part one: Backstory
- Colloidal Silver, Part Two: Explanation
- Colloidal Silver, Part Three: Homebrew

[ Disclaimer: Any time you write about something related to health and medicine, it seems you need a disclaimer. So here's mine. I am not a doctor. I am not an expert. I cannot be responsible for what you do or don't do. I am not making any claims, nor selling a product. Be careful, be reasonable, be intelligent. Do your own research. I'm just hear to share some experiences. Insert all the standard disclaimers here: Void where prohibited. Not a Flying Toy. Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball. ]

So in Part One, I told you that it seemed to work for my nagging cough. Now that I can easily make it a quart at a time, I'm willing to try it on any number of minor things that I happen to think of. I'll adopt the Mythbusters convention of Busted, Plausible, and Confirmed, at least in the context of my own unscientific experiments. For my experience with the persistent cough, I'll call it's curative properties Plausible.

Most of the rest of these aren't necessarily things colloidal silver is supposed to fix, but I can't see any risk in trying. I mean, if it's really a cure-all, let's put it to the test. It's become a bit of a running joke for me. Headache? CS to the rescue! Scratched DVD? Pour some CS on it! Carpet stain? Where's the CS? But here's the list of things I actually did try, along with my anecdotal results.

Scratchy throat: After the holidays, colds are pretty much a given. Everybody travels to visit far-flung relatives with their many and varied germ pools (germsheds?). Afterward, they all come back to the office, to school, to church, to the grocery store... and share their miniature hitchhikers with everyone. We had a fairly minor cold come through, though it hit Lori the hardest. I teetered on the edge of sickness, and one night when my throat was feeling particularly scratchy, I gargled with some colloidal silver. A half an hour later, and that was the end of that. Did it fix it? I couldn't say for sure. But I'm filing that away for future testing. Plausible.

Dandruff: This was an interesting one. I've always had dandruff, and without washing every single day with dandruff shampoo, my scalp would get itchy and flaky, and my hair would get oily. And I'd be extra susceptible to bed head, hat head, and other such embarrassments. Depending on who you ask, dandruff seems to be fungal or yeast-oriented condition. Colloidal silver is supposed to have anti-fungal properties, right? Turns out, for me at least, it works better than the store-bought shampoo. Less itchy, less flaky, less oily. I'm calling this one Confirmed.

Bad breath: The odors that cause garlic breath are bacterial, right? So why not? I'd say it was more effective than just rinsing with water. In combination with toothpaste or mouthwash, I think there's a lot of potential. Plausible

Indigestion: I know, I know, this doesn't really fit the profile of what this stuff should cure, but hey, it's all in the name of pseudo-science. I mean, they used to think ulcers were caused by stress. Now they think they're caused by some kind of micro-organism. Sadly, this shot in the dark missed for me. Busted.

That red dot on top of my foot: A podiatrist once looked at it, said maybe it was a fibrous corn, and told me as long as it didn't cause any discomfort, to just forget about it. I was never confident of the specific diagnosis, but he's the doc, so I stopped worrying about it. Say, let's try putting a few drops of colloidal silver on it for a week and see what happens. Well, nothing. Busted.

Shower curtain mildew: Again, why not? I'm already using it in the shower for my hair. Why not splash some on that sneaky black stain in between the folds of the curtain at the same time? Ok, so it didn't really do much here. I don't know, maybe it killed the stuff, but it didn't make it go away. I guess I'll have to do a side-by-side comparison of whether it's easier to scrub it away with or without colloidal silver treatment. Inconclusive, but we'll call it Busted for now.

That's all I've come up with so far. I've used it on minor scratches, but without a side-by-side comparison, it's hard to know if it mattered. If I ever get two side-by-side scratches, maybe I can do a real test there. Here's hoping I don't have too many more reasons to test it. If nothing else, I'm sure I'll try it on some powdery mildew or other plant problems this summer.

So that's all I have to report for now. Time will tell if anything else comes along, or any of the plausible ones are repeatable...

--

Colloidal Silver, Part Three: Homebrew

See also:
- Colloidal Silver, Part One: Backstory
- Colloidal Silver, Part Two: Explanation
Coming soon:
- Colloidal Silver, Part Four: Results

[ Disclaimer: Any time you write about something related to health and medicine, it seems you need a disclaimer. So here's mine. I am not a doctor. I am not an expert. I cannot be responsible for what you do or don't do. I am not making any claims, nor selling a product. Be careful, be reasonable, be intelligent. Do your own research. I'm just hear to share some experiences. Insert all the standard disclaimers here: Void where prohibited. Not a Flying Toy. Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball. ]


If you read this whole series, you'll notice I'm doing a lot of disclaiming and hedging and using lots of conditional words. The truth is that there hasn't been a ton of research on this, and there are many more anecdotes than published studies. Yesterday I referenced a source that says that there has not been a documented case of argyria (that permanent blue/gray skin condition) from low concentrations of colloidal silver. However, there have been cases of people contracting argyria from homemade colloidal silver. We usually don't know what concentrations or methods those people used. In fact, it's very hard to find out details about any of these cases at all.

And today I'm going to talk about how to make colloidal silver yourself. The information I have says the method I've ended up with will not cause argyria. But there are plenty of detractors out there, like this woman who contracted argyria and spends her time convincing people that colloidal silver is a bunch of hooey. And Quackwatch agrees. (Quackwatch is generally well respected, but has it's own critics.) You'll often hear of the case of Stan Jones, the Libertarian presidential candidate from Montana who contracted argyria from home made colloidal silver. But critics of this story say his methods were faulty. Back and forth it goes. So don't assume I know everything as fact. And since argyria can't be produced in animals or other artificial conditions, it may be a very tough question to answer. A lot of people use colloidal silver, and the number of actual cases of argyria is very small. So that's about all I can figure out on that front. If I ever start turning gray, I'll be sure to let you know... Meanwhile, on to the actual topic of this post.

To make colloidal silver, you need three key ingredients: Silver, electricity, and water. And to do this safely (disclaimer, disclaimer, disclaimer), we need to get fairly specific for each of these, so let's break them down:

Silver

This is actually fairly easy. You need very pure silver to do this. At least 99.9%, though it's just as easy to get 99.99% pure silver. 12 to 14 gauge wire is easy to find and to work with. I found two six inch lengths of 99.99% pure 14 gauge wire on eBay for about eight bucks. A local jeweler may be a good place to check as well.

Electricity

I mentioned the uber-simple phone jack design in the previous post, but as it didn't work for me, we'll pass over that.

The traditional low-tech method for making colloidal silver is usually called the "three-nines" design. This is a dual reference to the three 9-volt batteries used and the three nines in the 99.9% purity of the silver you need. The very simplest battery-based design has you snapping the three batteries to each other in a staggered fashion that's easier to see a picture of than to describe. I don't have a picture handy, and when I tried this method, the middle battery became very hot and started hissing, so let's just call that one Not Recommended. From there I got some little 9-volt battery snaps from Radio Shack and wired them together in series. I added a little on/off switch and a lightbulb to test whether the connections were good. Honestly, after several experiments, at this point I'd pass on any 9-volt battery based design. It's inconsistent, and the results end up quite a bit murkier than I'd like.

Another method is to take the power supply from an old cordless phone or other device, cut the end off, split and strip the wires, and hook each to a length of silver wire submerged in water. Higher voltages are supposed to be better, so a 12-volt transformer would be preferred over a 4.5 volt one. If you're uncomfortable playing with wires in such a manner, you can buy a 12-volt adapter from Radio Shack that has two holes at the end of the cord that fit 12 to 14-gauge silver wire perfectly. This type of setup is supposed to work well, but like the phone jack method, I couldn't get any results at all. User error, I'd assume, but I didn't feel like spending a lot of time on it.

The one I finally settled on for myself was to take an old solar-powered car battery trickle charger I had laying around, and using it as my power source. You can find these on eBay as well, for about $25 or less. No batteries needed, nothing to plug into a wall socket, and for me it gave good results. Some electrical tape and a couple alligator clip wire ends, and I was in business.

Water

This was more significant than I expected. I knew that tap water wouldn't work, but I thought that our fancy water filter would do the trick. But I think the fact that our water is softened, and therefore slightly saline was the problem. I don't think any water filter can take salt out of solution. Otherwise there'd be no need to build multi-million dollar desalination plants in some parts of the world. Anyway, the salt content was high enough that my little test lightbulb lit up even without the wires touching in the water. And the results were not good. Bottled water was better, but still not acceptable. It turns out that distilled water is really the only way to go.

Other stuff

You'll need some sort of vessel to make the stuff in. I'm using a mason jar with a plastic lid. (A metal lid wouldn't be a great idea since we're working with electricity.) I drilled two holes in it about an inch and a half apart for the wires to go through. You want the wires mostly in the water, parallel to each other, and an inch or two apart.

You may also want some sort of electrolyte to accelerate the whole process. "Electra who?" Okay, you've got three easy choices: salt, honey, or vitamin C (ascorbic acid) powder. The book I'm using recommends the vitamin C powder as the best option. And we're talking a tiny, tiny amount. The author uses a square wooden toothpick as a spoon. I just use the smallest amount I can manage to pinch between my fingers. Too much and you'll end up with a grayish cloudy mess.

So that's the parts list.

Here's the end result for my particular setup:

The solar panel is taped to a small wooden block to give it a nice 45-degree angle. My little multi-meter says it generates about 15 volts through the window screen and glass on a sunny day. Or 20+ if I put it outside. But I haven't found any need to. The two wires that come out of the panel are hooked to my two silver wires by way of little alligator clips. Some tape to hold it together, and then just aim it at the sun for about half a day. The higher your voltage, the quicker your results, though faster isn't necessarily better. I had much better results from the 15-volt solar charger than I did with the 27-volt "three nines" design.

If everything's working, you may see some bubbles forming on one or possibly both of the wires. One or both may also darken. If it looks like it's giving off big gray smoky wisps, or if the wire is getting really black, it may not be going well. You can clean the wire off periodically, and this may help. Or it may not be enough. If the water turns gray and/or cloudy, it's not going well. When you're done, you can use a clean scrubbing pad (like ScotchBrite) to clean the wires off.

As for the liquid, what you want to end up with is something that has a golden color to it, about like a cheap American beer. It may have a blueish or grayish tinge to it that comes and goes depending on the light source or angle. But you don't want a really cloudy gray.

Here's a photo of a good batch (foreground) and the start of a problem batch (background). On the background batch, you can see there's some pretty smoky looking wisps coming off the wires.
I didn't clean off the silver wires with my little srubby pad before starting. Usually I stop and clean them every so often while the batch is "brewing", but I couldn't find the pad and didn't really need to make more anyway. I just set this up for photos.

If you shine a flashlight (or sunlight) through good colloidal silver, you'll see the beam of light converge almost to a point as it passes through the liquid. This is a form of the Tyndall effect, and is supposed to indicate a good batch (disclaimer, disclaimer, disclaimer). Here's a photo to illustrate:

For a cool little science experiment, don't put the electrolyte in right away. Wait for 15 or 30 minutes. The water will probably still be clear. Drop in the electrolyte and it'll instantly start turning the water yellowish.

Anyway, that's all I've learned about making colloidal silver. If I get a bad batch, I just use it for non-internal purposes. Homemade colloidal silver can be inexact. But as a commenter on the previous post points out, even if you buy it from somebody else, you need to do your homework on which companies are reputable.

I've tried using colloidal silver for a wide variety of (mostly trivial) things... which I'll tell you about that in the next post.

--

Colloidal Silver, Part Two: Explanation

See also:
- Colloidal Silver, Part One: Backstory
Coming soon:
- Colloidal Silver, Part Three: Homebrew
- Colloidal Silver, Part Four: Results

[ Disclaimer: Any time you write about something related to health and medicine, it seems you need a disclaimer. So here's mine. I am not a doctor. I am not an expert. I cannot be responsible for what you do or don't do. I am not making any claims, nor selling a product. Be careful, be reasonable, be intelligent. Do your own research. I'm just hear to share some experiences. Insert all the standard disclaimers here: Void where prohibited. Not a Flying Toy. Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball. ]


Much of the information in this post is from a book called Colloidal Silver - @ntibiotic Superhero. The author is listed as Johnny Silverseed. [I'm not linking to the book so that I don't get any Amazon commission on referred sales. Just trying to remain as unbiased as possible here. Plus, I'n not exactly giving it a ringing endorsement below. I'm sure you can find it if you want.]

The book actually came with a tiny colloidal silver generator, consisting of a plastic RJ-11 phone line terminator (like the thing at the end of the phone cord that plugs into the wall), with two silver wires sticking out of it. The idea is that you can make colloidal silver by just using the voltage present in a phone line. (I tried it but it didn't seem to work. I didn't spend a lot of time trying to figure out why.)

The book itself is no great work of literature. Parts of it are hard to parse, vague, or disorganized. It reads more like a collection of somebody's research notes than a book. The photo quality is pretty bad. But, having said that, the information I wanted was all there, complete with references.

I mentioned in the previous post that colloidal silver was widely used prior to World War II. The interesting thing is that it was used in concentrations thousands of times higher than what you'll find today. At those high doses, argyria was well within the realm of possibility. Even so, I haven't been able to find many reports or references to any other types of toxicity or negative side effects to high doses. This article shows what an extreme case of argyria looks like, and it does mention the possibility of kidney and liver damage and brain seizures due to heavy metal poisoning from high exposure. The only other references to toxicity I can find are vague in that they combine colloidal silver, silver salts, silver chloride, silver iodine, silver protein, etc. This article goes into some detail specifically on the question of toxicity of low-level consumption of colloidal silver. And here is the EPA's highly technical report which seems to conclude that it won't cause cancer, but doesn't indicate much beyond that from what I can tell.

According to the book, there are three tiers of colloidal silver. For simplicity's sake, I'll call them, small, medium, and large, in reference to the size of the colloid molecules. A solution with very small molecules (clusters of only a few atoms each) is undesirable because it can affect beneficial bacteria. This solution will be clear. A solution with very large molecules is undesirable because it creates a risk of argyria. This solution will appear gray. In between is the target zone, with the solution turning a golden color, putting it in the 10 to 50 parts per million range, which is thought to be the most effective. (More on that in the next post.) This golden form of colloidal silver is supposed to prevent argyria, and I've seen several sources that say that no documented cases of argyria exist from people using colloidal silver in the 10-50 ppm range.

So how does it work? Well, I'm not a molecular biologist, but according to Silverseed's book, the most widely accepted theory seems to be that anaerobic bacteria seem to attract silver ions and are soon overwhelmed. Luckily, the beneficial bacteria in our bodies are aerobic, and produce colloidal enzymes which prevent them from being affected by the silver ions. Viruses seem to be prevented from entering host cells, or if already inside a host cell, they attract silver ions which prevent the virus from functioning properly. (This is from pages 9 & 10 of the aforementioned book, which cites the work of Dr. Peter L. Reynolds.)

Okay, so check out this partial list of ailments that have, at one time or another, been treated with colloidal silver:
Acne
Athlete's foot
Appendicitis
Anthrax bacilli
Bladder infection
Bronchitis
Conjunctivitis
Diarrhoea
Diptheria
Dysentery
Ear infections
E. Coli
Hemorrhoids
Hepatitis
Influenza
Pneumonia
Polio virus I
Salmonella
Staphylococcus Auroros
Staphylococcus Pyogenea
Staphylococcus Pyogens Albus
Staphylococcus Pyogens Aureus
Streptococci
Tuberculosis
Typhoid
Vincent's angina
Warts
Whooping cough

Now please, if you have appendicitis or tuberculosis or whatever, don't rely on something you read on some blog that one time. But in an emergency situation, with no other alternatives available, I'd probably rather try it than do nothing.

The author even touches on some research relating to certain types of cancer, but I'm hesitant to even mention it for fear of giving somebody false hope. Is there some microbial agent involved in some types of cancer? I really don't know. You're totally on your own for the serious stuff.

On the lighter side, the author mentions keeping some in a spray bottle for use around the house: spray stinky shoes or pet bedding, disinfect countertops, various personal hygiene uses, helping ailing pets, keeping fruits and veggies fresh longer, fungal problems in plants, keeping cut flowers fresh longer, preventing mold and mildew in showers, etc.

Worth a shot?

Up next:
Colloidal Silver, Part Three: Homebrew

--

Colloidal Silver, Part One: Backstory

Coming soon:
- Colloidal Silver, Part Two: Explanation
- Colloidal Silver, Part Three: Homebrew
- Colloidal Silver, Part Four: Results

[ Disclaimer: Any time you write about something related to health and medicine, it seems you need a disclaimer. So here's mine. I am not a doctor. I am not an expert. I cannot be responsible for what you do or don't do. I am not making any claims, nor selling a product. Be careful, be reasonable, be intelligent. Do your own research. I'm just hear to share some experiences. Insert all the standard disclaimers here: Void where prohibited. Not a Flying Toy. Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball. ]

If you've never heard of colloidal silver, or if you've heard of it but don't know much about it, you're right where I was a few months back. In my ongoing quest to transition from semi-normal everyman to certified nut-bucket, I bring you this four-part series.

Colloidal silver is old-time medicine - pre-World War II. It's been used as an antibiotic (both topical and internal), antifungal, antiviral. And the first thing to keep in mind that a hundred years ago, infectious diseases like pneumonia, influenza and tuberculosis were the leading cause of death.

Also, while silver sulfadiazine and silver nitrate are still used medicinally, colloidal silver has been demoted to "supplement" status. Improper use can give you a condition called argyria, which will give your skin and soft tissues a permanent gray hue. The FDA says this about human use, and this about use on livestock. (Surely, the FDA is immune to outside influence.)

On the flip side, proponents say colloidal silver will solve anything from a runny nose to stinky feet. In fact, you can probably find somebody out there who will tell you it cures AIDS, autism, bird flu, cancer, and anything else you want to name. Let's just say I don't plan on any such tests.

But back to the story.

Starting last fall, I developed a nagging cough that just wouldn't go away. After two weeks of coughing to the point of having a constant headache, I went to the doctor. She gave me amoxicillin and some cough syrup with codeine. Neither really helped at much, other than the codeine making me sleepy. Color me not surprised.

After 10 days of starter antibiotics, and another week after that with no improvement, I figured a Z-pack (zithromax) was next. (It was.) I didn't have especially high hopes, since it seems like antibiotics are becoming less effective every day. And I wasn't really convinced it was bacterial anyway, though a virus doesn't normally hang on so tenaciously.

So in the meantime, I did a some reading, asked around a bit, and decided to buy a little jar of colloidal silver from the local herbal store. For $16.98 I was the proud owner of two ounces of this reputed cure-all. Ouch. But if it worked, it'd be worth it.

It seemed to work. After six weeks of frustration, the cough went away. Maybe my immune system finally kicked in. Maybe the Z-pack deserves some credit. Or the placebo effect. I didn't much care.

But I got interested enough in colloidal silver to give it another chance. One problem: The price. $8.49 per fluid ounce is a bit steep.

Well, it turns out that with a few inexpensive bits and pieces, you can make it yourself. (You can also spend a hundred bucks to buy a "generator", but that didn't seem practical to me.) So I bought a book to fill in some details for me.

Next up: Colloidal Silver, Part Two: Explanation

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